


Cooking Failures

by tashaxxxxxx



Series: A Sister and her Brothers [13]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 14:53:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1652654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tashaxxxxxx/pseuds/tashaxxxxxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aramis is a terrible cook</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cooking Failures

**Author's Note:**

> I recently read a Fanfic where the musketeers where girls and I fell in love with Female Aramis, that coupled with my current love of modern! AU musketeers the end result has become this series of one shots. Hope you enjoy :)

It had been 6 months since Aramis had joined the Musketeers and she was enjoying the time spent with Athos and Porthos. Sure she’d had her doubts about them but they’d shared their own doubts and now all that was behind her. 

For the past 6 months Aramis had been living in a hotel, free from the expenses paid for by the musketeers. Except now she’d gotten past her probation period, with a little extra help from Athos and Porthos though they would deny it if she ever asked, and now she could afford her own place. 

She’d dragged Athos and Porthos with her and eventually had come a conclusion on one flat. Of course that had meant finding furniture and once more Athos and Porthos had been dragged along. They’d complained continuously while Aramis shopped but it hadn’t stopped them from coming along. Nor had it stopped them from offering to put the furniture up for her, something which she didn’t say no to. And now she was living in her own flat, with a load of new furniture, including a brand new kitchen. The problem. Aramis couldn’t cook. 

Living in a hotel had meant getting free breakfast and tea, if she was back in time for it. When she wasn’t Aramis would go to a bar and get food or buy a sandwich on her way home. Sure she could cook the basics. Throwing a pizza into an oven or making toast didn’t take a genius. No, the problem came when she tried to cook other things. Other food would either end up burnt or on the odd occasion not cooked enough. That particular episode had happened while she was at University when she’ attempted to cook chicken for her and her flatmates. That had ended with everyone being violently sick for the next 2 days. 

There was the option of take out, of course, and she’d never been one of those girls who avoided fatty foods. But on her wages she could barely afford the rent, which meant she most definitely could not afford to go out every day for tea. 

She lasted about a week before the first disaster came. Aramis had decided to cook fish and chips. That was simple enough, like pizza. Put it in the oven until it cooked. Except, as always something had to go wrong. She’d waited as long as the packet said, a half hour. Maybe the food didn’t look fully done but then again what would she know. Aramis managed two bites before having to throw the lot out. Definitely wasn’t cooked.

After that incident, Aramis attempted very little in the way of cooking, living off tinned food, pizza and toast. Not the most healthy living plan but seeing as everything else was nearly impossible for her to cook she figured it was fine. Sometimes Porthos invited the two of them around to his for food and he was an amazing cook. The best actually. Athos let them come around to his and while the man seemed to live off of a permanent supply of alcohol he wasn’t an overly bad cook either.   
“So, Aramis how about you cook tonight?” Porthos asked, casually and Aramis froze. It was only a matter of time before they asked, seeing as she used their houses for food more often than not. She was honestly surprised it had taken this long, having been with them for a little over a year now. 

“I can’t tonight.” 

“You never cane, come on even Athos cooks sometimes.” Porthos pleaded and Aramis knew she should probably tell her friends that she really couldn’t cook. 

Except idiot that she was she said, “Fine, tonight alright?” Porthos and Athos nodded there agreement and for the rest of the day Aramis felt herself getting more and more nervous. She’d always prided herself in being independent, even when she was a child she had rarely needed any help. Maybe that was just stubbornness or because she didn’t want to feel like a damsel in distress around the men she worked with. Either way, Aramis didn’t like to accept defeat and when she did, with the cooking for example. She hated people knowing. 

This stubbornness found her in her kitchen at 6 that night, trying desperately to follow instructions to make spaghetti bolognas. The cooker was on and all of the ingredients were in the pans. Porthos and Athos would be there in half an hour so she had time to have a shower. Feeling a little proud at herself for managing to make something other than beans on toast, Aramis jumped in the shower and dried her hair. 

When she eventually came out of the bathroom, 5 minutes before Porthos and Athos were due to arrive, she met disaster. The pan of boiling water with the pasta in was starting to boil over and Aramis rushed over, lifting the pan and managing to slosh the water onto the hand holding the pan. She dropped it with a hiss of pain, jumping out of the way just in time before the boiling pan and water hit her bare feet. Smoke was covering the kitchen from the pan with the sauce in it and Aramis quickly turned to oven off, the smell of burning meat entering her nostrils. 

Her hand was killing her from where the boiling water had hit her but instead of running her hand under cold water; she lifted the burning pan and doused it with cold water. Steam lifted up, making Aramis swear in annoyance.

Aramis was so busy doing all of this that she didn’t notice when the door swung open. That is until Athos said, “What happened?” She blushed fiercely as another spike of pain ran up her burnt hand. Porthos ran over to the burning food, pulling it off the still hot pan as Athos avoided the burning hot water on the tiled floor and came to stand next to Aramis. 

“What happened to your hand?” He asked, pulling her away from the steaming pile of mush that was the pasta and into the bathroom. She vaguely heard Porthos rummaging in her cupboards probably looking for something to clean up the mess. 

Athos pulled Aramis’ hand under the cold water and she groaned as the cool water hit her burning hand. The skin was red raw and hurt. Athos was silent as he asked were the bandages were, collecting them. When he was done he pulled Aramis’ hand away from the water and started to wrap them in the bandages. “You should get this seen to.” Athos said when he was finally done. 

“It’s not that bad.” Aramis argued. The pain had dimmed down now that the cool water had hit it, though the embarrassment of all of this was still very fresh and she couldn’t meet the older man’s eyes. Athos didn’t say anything else as he herded Aramis back into the living room and sat her down on the couch. Porthos had already cleaned up the mess and was sat on the couch, drinking a beer. 

“What happened?” Porthos said as he took in the sight of Aramis’ hand. 

“Nothing.” Aramis replied though it was an obvious lie. When Porthos and Athos gave her an unimpressed look Aramis re-evaluated and told them what had happened. “I can’t cook.” Aramis finished and Porthos burst out laughing. Heat radiated in Aramis’ cheek and she turned an angry look on the bigger man who quickly shut up. 

“Sorry.” Porthos apologised but Aramis only carried on glaring. “You should have told us instead of trying.” He amended putting an arm around Aramis’ shoulder. She jerked it off still angry at the man for laughing. 

Aramis still didn’t reply, knowing he was right even if she didn’t want to admit it. “Anyway, now we know better than to ask.” Athos said, seeing that Aramis wasn’t going to reply. “Pizza?” Aramis pulled a face and Athos raised an eyebrow in question. 

“I’ve been living off pizza seeing as I burn everything I cook.” Aramis said, a shy grin coming to life. Seeing that grin Porthos laughed loudly, setting Aramis off into laughter as well. Athos let out a small grin but otherwise ignored the other two. 

“So what do you want? Chinese? Burgers?” Athos’ tone was impatient so they quickly agreed on something and ordered it. 

“I’ll teach you how to cook if you want?” Porthos asked as they sat around the table with the ordered food. 

“Somehow I doubt that’ll work.” Aramis replied. 

“Have a little faith, I taught Athos. He was nearly as bad as you when I first met him and now look at him.” Athos glared at Porthos but didn’t say anything. 

“Fine but I’m warning you it won’t be pretty.” Porthos grinned at that.

“It can’t be that bad.” Porthos replied and Aramis only shook her head in exasperation.

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to end here so please review and hope you enjoyed. As always please say if there is a specific one shot you want done :)


End file.
